


the doctor's narrative

by toastedplumm



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Changing Tenses, Deviates From Canon, Other, Written for a Class, this is in julian's perspective and he dies at the end sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastedplumm/pseuds/toastedplumm
Summary: julian's trial goes better than expected, but an unwanted guest shows up at the party afterward.
Relationships: Asra & Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak & Portia Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	the doctor's narrative

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for my creative writing class over the summer, and my friend urged me to post it. i had to write a personal narrative from the perspective of someone who wasn't me, so i wrote the plot of part of julian's route but i modified it. i was going to do it from the perspective of blaine, my oc, but i decided to write it from julian's instead. please enjoy and do not hesitate to leave me comments! :)
> 
> the idea that my teacher gave me was "write a narrative with shifting tenses. write from a present perspective, then past, then move the story forward."

I look up from my desk in this small cell, pushing auburn hair away from my left eye. In front of me are papers. Some that I’ve written about a possible remedy for the red plague, some that my partner wrote to me trying to explain that I was innocent of this dastardly crime that I’m sure I’d committed. “Defend yourself” was a phrase common in their writings. I shuffle through notes from my studies. Drawings of beetles in red ink litter the pages. After looking through my study notes and trying my damnedest to make sense of them— these notes I wrote and can’t seem to make sense of— I pick up my pen from the worn-down wooden table. “Think,” I mutter, “Why can’t I think?” I slam my fist onto the table. My mind is racing. I’m pulled from the spiral of self-loathing induced by days of solitude when one of the members of the royal court noisily opens my cell.

“Wake up!” They shout, throwing a bundle of nice clothes at me to replace my clothes that I’ve been in since they threw me in here.

I jump slightly as I look up and I see Vulgora, the pontifex of Vesuvia. They are dressed in all red, save for the stripes on their sleeves and the metal gauntlets covering their arms. They have an extravagantly large pointed hat, much like dual-pointed mitre. Their face is very pointy, and perpetually a sunburned-looking red. God, they’re scary. I’m always intimidated by them when they come around, although they are much shorter than I. 

“Take your eyepatch off! Get ready for the trial!” They instruct rather loudly. I nod, my head down facing the floor as they spoke. They exit the cell, and I waste no time in getting dressed for the trial. As I’m standing in my cell, I pray that the magician and his apprentice— my partner— were prepared to bring me back again if I die. I see myself in the reflection of the scratched-up mirror in my cell and turn away immediately. I can’t bear to see my right eye, the one that had a deep red sclera due to the plague. It reminds me of the count’s eyes: cold, red, piercing. I fold the string behind the eyepatch and lay it neatly upon the mess of papers on my desk in the cell. Vulgora comes back with a few guards, they shackle me, and then escort me out of my cell and to the colosseum where my trial is being held. 

“Please rise for the Praetor Vlastomil.” One of the guards says. I shift nervously, my shackles clinking against the stone floor. I register who he is and groan as he enters the colosseum. I roll my eyes as I see his gaunt and pale face.

“Thank you, Vesuvia. You all may be seated.” Vlastomil says, a snarky grin comes to his face as he sees me. “Doctor Devorak! It’s been a while!” He laughs.

“Can we get on with the trial please?” My partner, Blaine, asks before I can say anything stupid in reply. Their arms are crossed, and all of my trust is in them. I thank the gods that they’re my lawyer. They know how to get me out of this mess. 

The court murmurs in response to Blaine’s question, and the murmuring escalates to louder speaking. Vlastomil bangs his gavel, silencing the court. “Order! Order!” He shouts. I straighten up, and my shackles make a soft clink-clink against each other and the floor. 

“Doctor Devorak, please come to the stand. Tell us what you were doing leading up to the crime.” Vlastomil says, waving beckoningly. I walk up to beside him. I know he’s going to laugh and sneer at me as I’m speaking, but I have to tell my story anyway.

“As many of you know, I was the head doctor on the team to cure the Red Plague. Quaestor Valdemar and I, along with a few others. Our main patient was Count Lucio himself. I was locked in the room with him, and he was annoying.” I explain.

“He’s guilty! He has a motive!” One spectator shouts. Vlastomil bangs his gavel in response. The spectator is removed from the colosseum.

Vlastomil looks over at me and I continue speaking. “He was annoying, but I didn’t wanna kill him. He put me through hell, and I still served him until his death.” I say. “On the nights leading up to the murder, I was in my chamber at the Lazaret trying to figure out the cure for the plague. He came into my chamber from his room where he was being taken care of. He’d yell orders at me, and I’d complete his requests, no matter how ridiculous they were. He even force-fed me one of the beetles that Valdemar used to destroy the bodies of people who died of the plague. It turned the sclera of my eye red.” I move my hair so the spectators and jury can see that the sclera of my right eye is, in fact, a bright red. 

I start telling the story again, “‘Devorak! Put your work down and come here!’ He would shout. I’d always respond. I had to, or he’d fire me. I always stood up from my desk in my working space, gently set my papers down, and walked over to him.

‘Yes sir?’ I asked every time. Then come the requests. He always had something stupid or time-consuming for me to do. It’s like he wanted to die of the plague. It was always something with him. And after his request, I’d sit down and work on my notes before he’d call me again. 

The night before the crime was the night before the masquerade ball. Lucio wanted me to stay in my quarters while he celebrated his birthday at the masquerade. I told him no, that I wasn’t going to let him go out and infect others. He rolled his eyes, and called for the tailor to be brought into the chamber. The tailor was a lovely young man who I’d recently treated for the common cold. He said that he didn’t want to come in, as Lucio was sick and contagious. Lucio called the members of the guard to carry the tailor in. I rolled my eyes and gave Lucio a stern talking-to, but my power couldn’t hold a candle to his. I gave Lucio his daily medicine, and the tailor set to work. He designed the count’s masquerade outfit flawlessly.

“It’s the day before my birthday, Jules. I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m the count.” Lucio slapped me across the face as hard as a skinny, sickly man who was six inches shorter than me could muster, which wasn’t hard. I rolled my eyes and went back to work. I stayed up all night working again while Lucio slept like a log.

The next morning, which was a year ago today, I put my work down as the sunlight filtered through my filthy window. I walked through the passage between my office and the count’s bedroom with my medical bag. I woke him up and checked his vitals before administering his medication and treatments. He stood up weakly and made his way to his closet to put on his outfit for the masquerade, which started an hour later. I wanted to go to the masquerade so badly, but I was ordered to stay in my office and work on the cure for this seemingly incurable disease. At this point, after how many people have died, this felt like a fool’s errand. I retreated back to my quarters and sat back at my desk. I drifted off to sleep momentarily, but I was awoken by the countess.

“How’s the cure coming along, doctor? How long does Lucio have to live?” She asked me. 

I yawned and moved my hair out of my face. “I don’t know if anything’s going to work. We’re running out of test subjects, milady.”

She frowned. “Please. Call me Nadia. I only want my servants to address me as ‘milady,’ and you’re not a servant.”

I didn’t argue with the countess. I nodded and laid out my papers. “I’ve tried many different options, and we’re running out of infected to test more options on. The citizens have started panicking and quarantining themselves. Hell, they all look at me like I’m a leper when I walk down the streets to purchase ingredients from the market. I don’t understand why people are now coming to the palace and socializing,” I said. 

“You do have the deep red sclera of a plague victim. But, there’s only one afflicted eye. You could always cover it with this.” She placed an eyepatch on my desk. 

I gratefully picked it up and put it on over my eye. “Mil- I mean Nadia, how do you put up with him?” I asked. She simply shook her head and left my chamber.

I worked all that day. I barely saw the sunlight for the third day in a row. I could hear the party festivities happening above me, and I hated it. I just wanted to work in peace.

After the party, I heard Lucio come back to his room. I went in to administer medication. Afterward, I heard a scream. I ran back in, and I saw the count. He was dead. I quickly fled the scene. I heard shouts of people who thought I did it, and I fled the city for a while. I didn’t look back as I ran. I was terrified.

That’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Your Honor.” I bow my head slightly. 

Vlastomil laughs. “Creative storytelling, doctor.” He sneers. “He’s guilty. Lock him up.”

“Wait,” A familiar voice says. “I am the countess of Vesuvia, and I say he’s innocent.” She pulls back a beautiful dark lace hood and her purple hair glistens in the light. 

“Milady, you can’t do that!” Vlastomil exclaims in protest. 

“I believe I just did. I will lock you up if you’re not careful,” Nadia says. “Ladies and gents! Please don’t let this get in the way of the festivities today! Please enjoy yourselves at the masquerade!” 

I breathe a sigh of relief as the guards remove my shackles. My partner wraps their arms around me and kisses me. Then, they slap me across the face. “You idiot! I thought you were going to get yourself killed with the way you were speaking! You had me so scared!”

I look down at my feet. “I’m sorry, Bee. Now, shall we go to the tailor and pick up a costume?” I ask, a playful smirk on my face. They roll their eyes and grab my hand. We weave through crowds of people to go to the tailor’s shop. He picks up a beautiful black feathered suit and a crow-shaped masquerade mask for me, and a beautiful yellow and black striped half-skirt and half-tuxedo outfit and a black phantom mask for Blaine.

“Oh my gods, that’s beautiful.” I say. I pay the tailor for our outfits, and Blaine and I run to the magician’s shop to change. I duck into the bathroom and come out in my costume. Blaine does the same. I accidentally knock something off of the table in the shop, and it falls to the floor with a thud. I go to pick it up, but I end up knocking more onto the floor. 

“Blaine, what’s that racket? Please don’t tell me the racoons are back,” says a voice that nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “Oh, hi, Ilya.” He giggles. 

“Asra, Julian is a free man!” Blaine says excitedly. 

I nod. “Vlastomil said I was guilty, but Nadia said I’m innocent.” I adjust the mask on my face before taking it off, “She outranks him, and I’m free.”

Blaine wraps their arm around my shoulders. “We should be going, dear.” They say with a soft sigh. I nod, and the three of us walk out of Asra’s shop. We walk through crowds of people: peddlers, peasants, and partygoers. We arrive at the palace.

“Wow, it’s nice to be here as a party guest and not Lucio’s personal slave,” I remark. I affix my mask firmly over my face as we step into the masquerade ball. 

“Wow, Julian. You look stunning.” Blaine straightens their mask on their face. I smile at them. I take my hand in theirs and take in the bright lights of the party. We walk through crowds of guests towards the buffet room. The sight and smells of the beautiful food on the table overwhelm my senses. There are so many beautiful-looking treats. My stomach growls loudly, and my mouth waters. I spot a plate of lobster claws and hurry to the table, pulling Blaine by the hand behind me. 

“Jesus, Julian. It’s like you haven’t eaten in days!” Blaine exclaims.

“I haven’t eaten anything with flavor for the past week, love.” I start shoving food into my mouth. My stomach growls louder at the taste of the lobster, which is my favorite food. I stuff more food into my mouth, but stop chewing noisily when I hear the voice of the countess behind me. 

“Doctor, Magicians, I need your help. There’s a disturbance in one of the upper halls. The guests are getting anxious and the guards are disappearing,” Nadia says softly. Asra’s eyes widen at her words.

“Asra, what’s wrong?” Blaine asks. Asra shakes his head. 

“I think I know what’s going on. We need to go.” Asra pulls us away from the table. 

“Fear not, citizens of Vesuvia! Your god has arrived!” A voice booms from the top of the stairs. The man behind the voice stands on the very top step, addressing the crowd of anxious partygoers from where he stood. I see a flash of gold from the left arm of the figure, and my eyes widen. It’s the count. The scleras of his eyes are a bright blood red, and they seem to almost glow. This isn’t right. Normal plague victims’ eyes don’t glow like this. Something is definitely wrong. I want to run away from the palace and from Vesuvia in general. I can’t seem to move. It’s like he has a hold on me.

“Welcome our guest of honor, Doctor Jules Devorak!” He laughs. He forces me to move towards the stairs. “Doctor Jules, I must catch up with you!” 

“Let me go, you ass.” I hiss as I start going up the stairs against my will. I try my hardest to break away from him, but whatever he’s pulling me with is too strong. I get to the top of the stairs, and I try to punch Lucio. I can’t hit him. He won’t let me. Whatever he’s holding me with holds me in the air. 

“Asra! What does he have me with?” I call.  
“It looks like rope! Oh god, he made a deal to make himself stronger!” Asra replies, “It’s some sort of dark magic. I see marks on his palms. Oh no, it’s blood magic.”

I struggle against the magical constraints. I feel something wrap around my neck. It’s loose at first, but oh god, it burns. “Oh, that’s amazing. I’m screwed.” I groan as the constraints get tighter. My vision is getting dark. My chest is tight.

“What’s wrong, doctor? You can’t treat this?” Lucio mocks. I keep struggling. The constraints tighten. I watch Asra whisper something to Blaine. I usually can read lips, but I can’t make out what Asra is saying. It must be in a different language. Blaine nods, and I watch them sneak up on Lucio. I’m ready to give up. My eyes flutter shut just as Blaine places their hands on Lucio’s shoulders. Light magic courses through Lucio’s body. The grip tightens and loosens as Lucio lets me go and falls to the floor, and I feel a rib break. I feel a stabbing pain in my chest. I’m done for. I lay on the floor by Lucio. The magic mark on my neck glows, but a little magic isn’t enough to help a broken rib and a punctured lung. My body tries to heal itself with the magic. It’s not enough. I’m going to die here. 

“Asra!” Blaine calls. 

“Oh god, Julian!” Asra exclaims as he sees me. 

I look up at him and Blaine. My lover and one of my close friends. I cough up blood, and I groan in pain. Blaine pushes my hair out of my eyes.

“Don’t leave me, Julian. Please don’t leave me.” They cup my face in their hands. 

“Blaine, I love you,” I say, meeting their dark blue eyes with my own gray ones. I don’t want to leave them. I don’t want to. Memories that I never thought I had flooded into my head. “Blaine, I don’t want to die again.”

“Again? Wait, what?” Blaine asks. 

“My memory is back—” I groan in pain, but continue speaking, “—and I died while investigating the plague. You died too. Asra brought us back. I couldn’t save you.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Lucio laughs as he stands up. He’s weakened. He stands over us. Asra stands up and sends the former count down the stairs with a hard push. He disappears. 

“Maybe Asra could bring you back!” Blaine exclaims.

“Blaine, I think it’s too late,” Asra said with a sad look on his face. I can’t bear to keep my eyes open. I smile up at Blaine, and my eyes close.

“I love you,” I say with what little breath I can manage.

“Don’t leave me!” Blaine starts to cry. It hurts knowing that I can’t do anything for them. I feel terrible. I’m holding onto hope that my mark can use enough magic to heal my body. I know that it won’t, but I can still be hopeful. My rib is slowly healing, but my lung isn’t. Every breath is a nightmare. I can hear Blaine sobbing. I hear Asra sniffling as he tries to heal me, and I hear two other sounds. An unfamiliar crying, and an all too familiar mourning. I force my heavy eyelids open. I see the fuzzy outlines of the two that I expected to see: Asra and Blaine. I see a blob of purple hair and dark skin, and a smaller blob of pale skin and bright red hair. I register the purple hair and dark skin as the countess. She is the unfamiliar crying. It takes me a moment to register the who other blob is, but I realize. She’s my sister. I haven’t spoken to her in years. She looks to be dressed in handmaiden clothes. Why didn’t I know that she works here? I’m such a great older brother.

“Ilya, what did you do?” She asks in a hurt tone.

“Lucio is alive.” I groan in pain as I speak.

“Shh, Julian. Don’t talk.” Blaine runs their fingers through my hair. 

“Portia, Lucio decided to show up when we were celebrating Julian’s freedom. He made a deal with The Devil using blood magic and got much stronger than he once was. He had Julian in the air by magical constraints, and squeezed him so hard that he broke a rib and punctured a lung.” Asra explains. 

“I didn’t kill him,” I cry, “the plague killed me.”

“Shh, Julian.” Blaine soothes. “Just breathe.”

I feel their soft lips on mine. It’s a wonder how I haven’t died yet. The mark on my neck is still glowing. The magic is still working to heal me. I feel a sharp pain. It’s the magic stopping, as if it’s listening to my thoughts. A choked cry of pain gets trapped on my throat and my vision goes dark again. I’m dying. The last thing I feel is Asra’s hand on my wrist. I draw in one last ragged breath.

“Blaine, he’s gone,” is the penultimate thing I hear. The ultimate is a loud sob from Blaine.


End file.
